


Felix Natalis

by GoldenWaffles



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Birthday, F/F, Fluff, Nicole Haught is a sap, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-10 13:41:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20528939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenWaffles/pseuds/GoldenWaffles
Summary: Another year, another September eighth, another Waverly Earp birthday that nobody remembers. Or is it? Because this year, a present appears on her desk. It's not from Wynonna, or Gus, or Champ, or Chrissy, or anyone else Waverly can think of. Unless maybe... just maybe... it's from one Officer Haught. And so it begins...Will be posted in three parts, with the final part posting on September 8th. Happy Birthday, Waverly.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this on the back-burner for awhile, but I really wanted to post it for Waverly's canonical birthday, so here it is. It takes place in some nebulous part of Season One, before Waverly does the thing that scares her and tackles Nicole into her boss's couch with her face. I tried to imagine how Nicole would try to celebrate Waverly's birthday before they were officially dating, and this is what shook out. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Pale sunlight streamed through the window on the morning of September the eighth. For a second, as Waverly blinked her way awake, the light all but smothered by her three blankets, it seemed like just another day. But the memory came back with a rush. September eighth. Her whole body began to tingle with anticipation— and maybe just a hint of dread, which she forced down. Every year, she made the choice to believe in people. And sure, every year she was disappointed, but she wasn’t about to let that stop her. If she just gave up on people every time they let her down, by now she wouldn’t have anyone left.

She poked her head out from her blanket cocoon and scanned the room for any signs of change. For as long as she could remember, she had harbored secret fantasies of elaborate birthday rituals and celebrations, like being woken by loved ones at midnight or first thing in the morning. Or maybe her room being filled with presents and decorations overnight. It had never happened, but it was always nice to think about.

This year, just like every year, as she blinked at the orange-tinted sunrise glowing in the window, she was alone. Silent. Solitary. But that was fine. She still had the entire day ahead of her. There was plenty of time for everyone to remember and celebrate. Yawning and stretching and fussing with the tangles in her hair, she dragged herself out of bed, reluctantly leaving the weight of her blankets behind, and stood to face the day.

Barefoot and shivering, she padded over to her window and peered out into the quiet morning. Really, if she thought about it, this was a different sort of year. Wynonna was back now, apparently for good this time. She had always been a chronic birthday-forgetter, but that was Before. Before the curse. Before the revenants and the heir and Peacemaker and Black Badge. And between all the revenant fighting and the BBD stuff and making the homestead home again, Waverly had begun to hope, and maybe even believe, that Wynonna would actually stay for good this time. And while Wynonna-the-Estranged-Sister had always forgotten her birthday, it seemed possible that Wynonna-the-Heir might finally come through for her.

Waverly pulled on her favorite shirt and skirt and spent a good long time brushing out her hair before tiptoeing downstairs. Wynonna was asleep on the couch, still dressed in last night’s clothes. On the floor next to the couch was a half-empty bottle of whiskey, but her sister looked legitimately asleep, not passed out, so Waverly opted to let sleeping dogs lie.

She made coffee and curled up on the porch with her favorite mug and a knitted afghan and a worn, well-read paperback. It was still warm for September, and she wanted to enjoy it for as long as she could, before the winter cold really started sinking in and she was forced to spend her mornings huddled under piles of duvets. The sun warmed the wooden slats of the porch as it crept up in the sky, and Waverly decided that this wasn’t such a bad way to spend a birthday morning, even if she was alone. This was the rare, good kind of alone.

Two and a half cups of coffee and five chapters later, she heard the door open. Wynonna ambled out, dressed but yawning. She picked up Waverly’s half-empty mug and drained it, pulling a face at the taste of cold coffee and sugar.

“Ew,” she scoffed, setting it back down with a personally offended look that made Waverly bite back a grin.

“Then go make your own,” she griped, faking a glare. Wynonna plopped down next to her on the porch steps.

“Too much effort,” she sighed. Waverly underwent a surreptitious search of her face, trying to scan for anything unusual— an extra smile, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, a colorful card tucked into a back pocket— but there wasn’t anything obvious. Yet.

“So what’s on the agenda for today?” Waverly flipped a page in her book, trying not to sound too invested. Wynonna waved her phone in the air demonstratively.

“Dolls texted me. He wants us at the cop shop. Guess he has some new ideas about the Seven.”

“Oh. Okay.” That wasn’t quite what she had been hoping for. Fleetingly, the younger Earp entertained the possibility of a surprise party, but ultimately, even if Wynonna had wanted to throw one, there was no way Nedley or Dolls would allow it to happen in the police station, and there was no way it would be this early in the morning. “Are we going now?”

“If you’re good to go.”

“Yep, no problem.” Waverly rose to her feet and followed her big sister to the truck. “Hey, can we stop for donuts on the way?”

* * *

They did stop for donuts. Whatever Purgatory thought of Wynonna and their family history, they certainly counted on her to single-handedly keep the local bakery afloat. Once there, Waverly eagerly searched their donut selection for her favorite variety, vanilla dipped, but there were none to be found. Instead, she settled for an assortment of sprinkled with only a little disappointment. By the time they made it to the police station, she had rallied her optimism again through sheer force of will, arguing that sprinkles were still good. Better, even. They were bright and colorful and vaguely celebratory, like tiny edible confetti. A perfect birthday breakfast.

They arrived at the station just as a handful of officers were walking out. Wynonna ignored them, but Waverly perked up when she spotted one particular officer in the center of the group. Officer Haught. The same Officer Haught who, no matter the day or time, always seemed to have a beaming smile just for her. On this day of all days, Waverly was craving that kind of attention. She gave the redhead a classic smile-and-wave combo, and Nicole didn’t disappoint, flashing a bright grin back, eyes lighting up and cheeks dimpling adorably. She looked like she wanted to say something, but one of the other officers was making a big show of getting her attention, so she just tipped her hat and dipped her head as she was forced to keep moving. As they passed each other, Waverly thought she smelled her favorite donuts, but Wynonna had already carried the box inside, so she must have been mistaken. Shrugging to herself, she followed her sister back through the station and into the BBD room, where Dolls was already making notes on their whiteboard.

“Hey there, Boss-Man,” Wynonna greeted irreverently. “Donut?” She held out the open box to him, but he waved her away. She shrugged and set it on top of another cardboard box sitting on what Waverly unofficially considered ‘her’ desk.

“Not now. I need you to focus. I’ve been talking with my superiors, and they think it’s time we switch up our tactics.”

The rest of the day was a study in tedium. Dolls wanted to try focusing on locations in the Triangle that might have a significance to certain known revenants, and that meant hours spent in dimly lit back rooms poring over county archive records, both in dusty, poorly maintained tomes and on barely legible microfilm. By lunchtime, Waverly was nursing a blinding headache and Wynonna was still showing zero evidence that she had remembered her birthday. She also hadn’t heard from Champ all day, although that was less surprising. Even Gus, who was out of town for a relative’s funeral, hadn’t called or texted yet, which was unusual (but not unheard of).

Basically, it was a completely typical Waverly Earp birthday, which is to say that for the entire rest of the world, it was a completely typical Thursday and nothing else. After all those years of practice, she found it amazing that she still couldn’t manage to stop caring.

* * *

The afternoon didn’t improve. Wynonna and Dolls had apparently gotten into some kind of tiff while sparring, and both were sulking in their own ways— Dolls was glowering and barking orders and doing push-ups, and Wynonna was doing everything in her power to annoy him, which had the side-effect of also annoying everyone around him. Waverly usually would have attempted to play the role of peace-maker between the two of them, but today, she would rather have just shot them both with Peacemaker and been done with it. Finally, Wynonna managed to reach Dolls’s last straw.

“Alright. That’s it. I give up. If you cannot even _pretend_ to be professionals, then we might as well call in the tomahawks now,” he growled, his jaw clenched. “I’m going to go back to my hotel room and try to get some _actual_ work done. You two can do whatever you want.” He stormed out, slamming the door behind him so hard the smoked glass rattled in its frame. Waverly frowned, wondering how she was now stuck sharing the blame for Wynonna’s shenanigans.

“Fine. Whatever. Serves him right,” Wynonna grumbled unconvincingly. “I’m the goddamn Earp heir. This is my job. He doesn’t have to act like we’re some kind of amateurs.”

“I’m sure he’ll be back tomorrow,” Waverly sighed, rubbing at her eyes. Her vision was still blurry from a long morning of faded ink and fine print. “He just thinks you aren’t taking this seriously.”

“Psh,” Wynonna scoffed. “What the hell does he know? This is _my_ life. _My_ destiny. _My_ duty. _My_ big-ass gun. _My_ ass on the line when I go hunt these assholes down. Maybe he should take _me_ more seriously, Mister Deputy Marshall _Balls_.”

“Call him that next time you see him. I’m sure it’ll help your case,” Waverly deadpanned. Wynonna raised an eyebrow at her.

“What’s with you today, baby girl? If you aren’t careful, they’re going to take your ‘Nicest Person in Purgatory’ sash away.”

“It’s… Nothing. I’m fine. It’s just a headache from that cruddy microfilm reader.” She met her sister’s eyes, and somewhere under the sarcasm and bitterness, she could see honest concern. The sight of it calmed her, and she managed an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I know how seriously you take this. Dolls will see it, too, once he gets to know you better.”

“I guess so. Not that I want to get to know him better. I mean, what a government stiff, right?” Wynonna snorted, trying to sound aloof, but Waverly could tell that it was all a cover. Restlessly, her big sister stood and went to check the empty donut box again, as though new donuts might have appeared in there since she last checked. Disappointed, she even lifted the box up to look underneath, like there might be donuts hiding under some secret donut trapdoor. “Oh, right, I forgot to ask earlier, do you know a guy named ‘Felix’ who lives in Purgatory?” Wynonna asked. Waverly frowned, racking her brain, but she couldn’t think of any, current or historical.

“Felix? No, not that I’ve heard of. What’s the family name?” She turned the word ‘Felix’ over in her head, trying to think of any connection. Wynonna pushed the donut box aside and examined the slightly larger cardboard box that had been serving as its pedestal.

“Weird one. Looks like… Nautilus? No, ‘Natalis?’ Ring any bells?”

Waverly’s brain put the two words together and promptly derailed.

“No, but… wait… Felix Natalis?” she echoed, an unfamiliar sensation burning its way through her. It was some heady combination of hope and excitement and shock and disbelief.

“Yeah, there was a package in here this morning with his name on it. I didn’t remember him, but I thought you might, since you know all the old families and stuff.” Wynonna shrugged carelessly, like she was really just asking about an unfamiliar name.

“Felix Natalis?” Waverly said again, staring at her sister’s face, searching for signs of recognition.

“Um… yes?” Wynonna was giving her a confused look. Waverly kept hoping to see a spark of humor or pride there, but her sister seemed honestly oblivious of the words’ significance. She suppressed a sigh, but also felt a renewed spike in curiosity. If not Wynonna, then who?

“Is that it? The package?” she asked.

“Yeah. Here.” Wynonna hefted the wide, flat box wrapped in unassuming brown paper. On top, as promised, was written in black marker: ‘_FELIX NATALIS_’

“Give it here. I’ll… I’ll find him,” Waverly promised, reaching out for the mystery box and trying not to seem too eager.

“O-kay…” Wynonna held it out and Waverly took it carefully in her hands. She squinted at the handwriting on the note. It was neat, with broad, evenly spaced letters, but it didn’t look familiar enough to place. She turned over names in her mind, trying to imagine whom the package could be from. Gus was out of town. Curtis and Shorty were dead. Champ had never remembered her birthday. Wynonna clearly had no idea. Chrissy and Stephanie had both been distant lately. And aside from that… she honestly could not think of a single other person who would know her birthday, remember it, and decide to do something, anything, about it. Let alone leave a present on her desk with ‘Happy Birthday’ written in Latin on top.

“Felix Natalis,” she murmured to herself. Happy Birthday indeed.

“Let me know when you find him. And if he’s hot.” Wynonna joked.

“Felix? Hot? I doubt it,” Waverly said. But the idea did spark something in her mind. Could it be from a guy? There were always a few guys sniffing around, especially when she was on the outs with Champ, but she couldn’t imagine that any of them would know her birthday, or would bother looking up Latin phrases for her. “I’m, uh… gonna take this in back for a second. To… check the old directories for anyone named ‘Natalis,’” she improvised, coming up with the excuse on the spot. Truthfully, she was itching to tear the paper off and find out what was inside, and whether it included a signed card.

“Okay, sure,” Wynonna said, still giving her an odd look. Waverly ignored her and, hugging the package to her chest, hurried into one of the empty interview rooms in the back of the building.

With a gentleness approaching reverence, she laid the box in the exact center of the table. It was neatly wrapped up in plain brown paper and clear tape. Someone had clearly put some effort into wrapping it, but had also decided to forgo actual gift wrapping and colorful ribbons. Maybe they had simple tastes. Or maybe they hadn’t wanted it to seem obvious. Or maybe they just hadn’t cared enough to buy special paper. The package was fairly heavy for its size, and the weight seemed uniform. It was too large to be something obvious, like a book. Whatever was inside stayed in place when she tilted it, so it must have been packed securely. Maybe that meant it was fragile.

Waverly stared at it for another long minute, almost taunting herself with its existence. Until she opened it, it could be anything. The perfect present, or the worst. From someone she loved, or someone she loathed. A miracle, or a grave disappointment. She suddenly understood why everyone was so obsessed with Schroedinger’s cat.

“Come on, just open it up. This is what you’ve been waiting for,” she told herself firmly. She couldn’t just leave it in there forever.

With a careful hand, she slid her fingers under the tape, trying to unwrap it while doing as little damage as possible. Under the paper, it was a plain cardboard box, unmarked, wide and flat. Hands shaking, she flipped open the lid before she could talk herself out of it.

Inside was a wide wooden picture frame, rustic looking, very much her style, with a broad engraving across the bottom reading “YOU ARE HERE.” Inside the frame was a breathtaking aerial photograph that was so strikingly gorgeous that it took her several seconds of gaping to realize that she recognized it. It was Purgatory. The town was sprawled out in the center of a sweeping panorama shot, tucked into the woods and mountains, with the light of a dazzling sunrise cutting through the center. The whole place seemed to glow with life and warmth. Waverly blinked, her eyes watering and her throat tight. It was her home, rendered on film in glossy ink. ‘You Are Here.’

Her hands were still shaking as she picked up the wrapping again and looked at the words. ‘Felix Natalis.’ The writing was neat, but slightly rounded. Distinctly feminine, she thought. The package was wrapped up like mail. And there was only one person who would be brave enough to risk treason by putting it in the Black Badge office, only one person who would have known which desk she favored. Only one person who seemed uniquely interested in everything about her. Only one person who smiled like the sun every time she saw her.

Waverly tore out of the room, into the bullpen, her eyes instinctively turning towards Officer Haught’s desk. It was empty. She was still out on patrol.

And so the question remained.

How did she know?

* * *

It was over an hour later, an hour filled with restless pacing and whirling thoughts, that the officer in question walked in, brushing invisible dust off her uniform. It was a warm, breezy day for September, and she looked pink-faced and windblown. She closed the distance to her desk in long, easy strides, and picked up a metal water bottle, taking a long drink as she sat down. Waverly made a beeline for her, her brain demanding answers but struggling to form coherent questions. She set the box down one desk over and walked right up to the other woman.

“You,” Waverly said simply, either as greeting or accusation. Officer Haught looked up, her expression polite and neutral until recognition set in. When she realized it was Waverly, her entire face transformed, lifting into a warm smile with sparkling brown eyes.

“Me,” the officer echoed, playing along. She paused for a second, probably looking for Waverly to continue, but the youngest Earp just looked at her, contemplating the situation until the redhead cleared her throat and gave her a curious look. “What are we doing?”

“The present,” Waverly said, pointing at it, and Nicole’s expression cleared as she saw it.

“Oh, good, you found it. Hopefully it was okay.” She said it casually, but Waverly could tell that the officer was scrutinizing her reaction. Waverly shook her head.

“Yeah, obviously, it’s amazing, but why did you do it?”

“‘Why?’” Nicole echoed, confused but still smiling. “Is that a trick question? It’s your birthday today, isn’t it?” She said it with such confidence, like it was so obvious, that it stole Waverly’s breath. Her whole life, people always forgot. Always. Even on the years that Gus and Curtis remembered, there were others who forgot. Champ, Shorty, Chrissy, Wynonna. And now…

Nicole seemed to have noticed the severe look on her face. “Oh man, are you one of those people who hates their birthday? Because I swear, I didn’t know.” The deputy pressed one hand to her chest, emphasizing the apology, as concern furrowed her eyebrows. Waverly shook her head immediately, breaking out of her reverie.

“No, no, that’s not it. I like it fine.” It was true in theory, anyway. It just wasn’t a theory she got to test very often. Nicole relaxed minutely, although her brow stayed knitted.

“So it’s okay that I got you a present?” she checked, voice betraying just a hint of nervousness undercutting her usual swagger.

“Yeah, but… how did you know it was today? Who told you?”

“Oh, that.” Nicole leaned back in her chair, looking sheepish. “Look, don’t be mad. But you remember you came in a few weeks ago to renew your gun license?”

“Sure, I guess.” It had been a routine thing, just filling out some paperwork after getting a notice in the mail. She didn’t even remember seeing Nicole there at the time.

“Well, I was filing the form for it later, and it had your date of birth on it, and I didn’t mean to see it, I swear, but I did. Just for a second.” Her face was scrunched up in such a bashful and apologetic expression that it didn’t even occur to Waverly to be angry.

“And you remembered it?” Waverly’s voice was too soft for the question, too revealing. Nicole’s face seemed to soften on instinct, reflecting hers.

“You say that like it’s hard. It’s just two numbers. Nine-eight. Easy enough. Consecutive, even. And when I saw it, I thought ‘Oh, hey, that’s coming up!’”

Again, it sounded so simple when she said it, like it was really that easy.

“So you remembered and you bought a present?”

Nicole tilted her head one way, then the other, face twisted up in thought, making a show of considering the question. It was so cute that Waverly had to bite back a smile.

“Well, I technically didn’t _buy_ anything. I’d already taken the picture, and I had bought the frame awhile ago— I have a million of them, honestly. So really all I had to do was get it printed and write the ‘You Are Here’ and put it all together, and ta-da!” Nicole waved a hand at the gift, and Waverly traced the lettering on the bottom of the frame, engraved into the wood with a steady hand. “I just thought, you’ve lived here your whole life, and I’m still so new. I thought maybe you’d like to see the town from an outside perspective. That’s all.”

The sentiment was so sweet that it made Waverly’s heart ache.

“It’s… unbelievably beautiful. Really. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Don’t worry about it. It was no big deal.” The officer tried to shrug off the thanks, but it was somewhat undercut by the way she nearly glowed with pride. “But I’m glad you like it.”

“Yeah…” Waverly ran her fingers over the frame again, taking in the picture. The whole town was cast in light and shadow, hard angles and soft slopes.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Nicole’s voice brought her back to reality, and she saw the deputy watching her with penetrating eyes, like she was trying to read her mind. She was leaning forward in her chair, giving Waverly her full, undivided attention in a way that almost no one else ever did. “I mean… at the risk of being too blunt, you don’t look all that happy.”

“No, it’s fine,” Waverly lied. “I’m just surprised. I wasn’t expecting anything from you.”

She got the feeling that Nicole recognized the lie, but she didn’t fight her on it. Instead, she leaned back a little, one hand rubbing at the back of her neck.

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure if it would be… overstepping, I guess. But I wanted to give you something,” she admitted. It rang of a confession, but after a breath, the officer rallied again, her confident smile sliding back into place. “I mean, this town basically runs on your smiles. You at least deserve a small token of appreciation for putting up with the rest of us.”

The praise, said so simply and earnestly, filled Waverly up with light and warmth.

“You really think that?” she asked shyly.

“How could I not?” Nicole’s smile took on a slight cockiness that bordered on flirtatious. “I bet if the town took a vote, they have to start calling us ‘Purgatory’s Second-Finest.’”

“Stop it.” Waverly murmured unconvincingly, blushing, and she saw victory in Nicole’s eyes and the way her smile crept even wider. “So why didn’t you sign it? The present, I mean.”

“Uh… I did?” The officer looked surprised, then seemed to have an epiphany. “Oh, but, uh, the card is taped under the lid. I was going to put it on top, but I didn’t want to cover up the Latin, and also I wasn’t totally sure you’d open it if you knew it was from me. And then I didn’t want to put it on top of the picture, because that kind of ruins the big reveal. So I put it on the lid.” Nicole reached out and gently lifted the discarded lid, and Waverly saw a flash of pastel blue. She reached for the small envelope and unstuck it from its resting place, then slid it open, apparently to Nicole’s surprise. “Oh, uh, you don’t really have to read it-”

Inside was a simple card, handwritten on white cardstock. The front just said ‘Happy Birthday’ in bright blue pen, with a few doodled balloons, and inside was a message.

_Waverly—_

_I just wanted to get you something to thank you for the unwavering kindness you’ve shown me in my short time here. I hope you have an amazing day with your friends and family, and that this will always remind you of home._

_All my best,_

<strike> _Officer_ </strike> _ Nicole _ <strike> _Haught_ </strike>

_PS- also thank you for (mostly) keeping your sister out of jail_

_PPS- you still owe me a coffee_

In the signature, she had clearly written ‘Officer Nicole Haught’ and then very deliberately crossed out everything but ‘Nicole,’ like she was making a point. Waverly glared accusingly at the woman in question over the top of the card. Nicole offered her a sheepish grin.

“I still owe you a coffee, do I, _Nicole_?” she asked, challengingly. The officer had the grace to blush, giving a small laugh.

“It was a joke. You don’t owe me anything. And you can call me whatever you like.” She tried to wave off the contents of the card, but Waverly didn’t let her.

“No, you’re right.” She took a clear step backwards, towards the door, a silent dare to put her money where her mouth was. “So let’s go.”

“Go?”

“For coffee,” Waverly said simply. Nicole’s eyebrows crept up.

“Now?”

“Now. I mean, if you still want to.” Waverly could hear the challenge in her own voice, daring Nicole to say no, daring her to say she didn’t want to, that she wasn’t interested. But Nicole didn’t disappoint. She picked up the gauntlet that Waverly had thrown down, rising to her feet and giving her another dimpled grin.

“Alright then, birthday girl. Let’s go.”


	2. Chapter Two

“Alright then, birthday girl. Let’s go.” Nicole sauntered towards her, leaving her hat hanging on her chair and undoing the top few buttons on her uniform shirt. They walked out of the cop shop together, and Waverly steered them towards Purgatory’s one attempt at a coffee shop, the same place she had bought donuts that morning. Nicole, holding the door for them both as they walked in, shot her an amused smirk.

“It’s clever, picking today to settle up that coffee debt,” she drawled, gripping her belt as they took a spot in line.

“Why?” Waverly couldn’t resist smiling back.

“Well, because it’s the one day of the year I obviously can’t let _you_ pay for _my_ coffee.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s your birthday, Earp. Did you forget already?” Nicole gave her a teasing grin. Waverly nearly snorted at the thought. After all these years, everyone else in town had forgotten at least once. It would be oddly fitting for her to take her own turn at it.

“You’d be surprised,” she murmured. They made it to the front of the line and, as promised, Nicole paid for them both, over Waverly’s (admittedly halfhearted) objections. They sat at a table for two by the window, chatting amicably. Nicole sipped at a cappuccino, while Waverly nursed a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream.

Waverly had been prepared for awkwardness, or for more blatant flirting, but to her surprise, the conversation stayed easy and flowing. Nicole asked curious, prompting questions about Purgatory and the Ghost River Triangle and Wyatt Earp, and the next time Waverly looked at her phone to check the time, she realized that she had been essentially lecturing the deputy on local history for almost two hours. Suppressing a rush of horror, she checked Nicole’s face for signs of boredom, but she didn’t find any.

“That makes a lot of sense,” Nicole said thoughtfully. “I always knew small towns can be kinda cliquey, but since I got here, I’ve seen families like the Gardners or the Loblaws practically run the place. But it makes sense if they’ve been here for that much longer than everyone else.”

“Yeah, that’s right. They own a lot of the local land, too. I mean, if you look at the old plat maps…” Waverly trailed off, still scanning for signs of disinterest. But Nicole wasn’t checking her watch or glancing towards the door or moving to tidy her empty mug. Her eyes were still intent on Waverly’s face, although they seemed to notice her sudden distraction.

“Everything alright?” she asked.

“Fine. I just didn’t realize the time,” Waverly said, a little apologetically. As though a switch had been flipped, Nicole’s expression changed instantly, becoming just a touch more distant, more guarded.

“Oh, right. You probably have birthday plans. Well, I won’t keep you. This was nice, though.” Nicole moved to stand, but Waverly held up a hand to halt her, without being totally sure why she was doing it. Nicole froze for a moment, uncertain, then slowly slid back into the chair.

“No, it’s good. We can stay. If you want. For a little longer, at least,” Waverly said.

“Alright...” She could see Nicole struggling to read the situation, and she couldn’t blame her. “In that case, I’ll go get us a refill.” She reached for Waverly’s mug, a question in her eyes, like she was giving her a chance to turn her down. Waverly just nodded. Nicole collected both cups and withdrew to the counter, glancing back over her shoulder once before talking to the cashier.

Waverly watched her lean casually against the counter, all long limbs and fine features. Her hair was still knotted in its braid, and she fleetingly wondered what it might look like when freed. And what she might look like out of uniform. And what she might sound like when she laughed, _really_ laughed. And whether she sang along to the radio, or in the shower. And if—

Waverly cut herself off before she went too far down that rabbit hole. She shouldn’t think about those things. They weren’t dating. They were barely _anything_. She shouldn’t care.

And yet…

Nicole smiled at the barista as she took the fresh mugs, and Waverly watched her long, smooth stride as she returned to the table, setting Waverly’s in front of her slowly, taking care not to spill any.

“Thanks,” Waverly murmured, feeling oddly shy all of a sudden.

“You’re welcome.” Nicole settled into her seat and blew on the top of her coffee, making the foam ripple. “So you were saying something about plat maps, right?” she prompted after a moment.

Waverly shook her head, almost in disbelief. Nicole seemed earnest, but there was no way they were going to sit there talking about plat maps and inheritance law and land ownership rights all day. Even Waverly had to draw a line somewhere.

“Yeah, but I feel like I’ve just been talking at you this whole time.”

“I don’t mind. It’s been interesting. I still have a lot to learn about the area.”

“Yeah, but… I don’t know, what about _you_? I know why _I_ love the Ghost River Triangle, but I’ve lived here my whole life, and my family’s been here for generations, and I’ve studied the history and everything. But I know to the rest of the world it’s just some dusty old town. Why would _you_ decide to come here?”

Nicole looked a little surprised by the question, but her forehead creased as she gave the matter some thought.

“I guess that’s mostly down to Nedley. I was…” She paused for a beat, absentmindedly tapping a finger on the tabletop, like she wasn’t sure how to explain it. “…kinda familiar with the area, I guess… but I hadn’t really thought about it in years. But then I was about to graduate from the academy, and I saw the posting for deputy here, and it just kinda… felt right.” Her voice had changed as she spoke, from her strong, confident tones to gentler, more thoughtful ones. Waverly started to ask what exactly ‘felt right’ meant, but before she could, Nicole continued. “And Nedley, of course. He more or less headhunted me.”

This caught Waverly off-guard.

“He did?” she asked, suddenly curious. She had known Randy Nedley her entire life, and the idea that he would directly seek out a young female deputy from the city rather than an older man from the country or someone already employed under him was… strange, to say the least.

“Mm-hmm,” Nicole hummed over the rim of her coffee mug. “He was relentless. Kept telling me to apply, trying to sell me on the job, and on the area, and the people.” She met Waverly’s eyes for a moment, and her lips barely ticked upwards.

“Did he reach out to everyone, or just you?” Waverly was still trying to wrap her head around the idea.

“As far as I could tell, just me.”

“But why you?” she asked, before realizing how rude that sounded. “Not that you’re not a great choice or anything. You’ve been doing amazing here. It’s just…”

“No offense taken,” the deputy assured her. “It _did _strike me as odd.” Her expression had darkened slightly over the course of the conversation, but it had brightened somewhat at Waverly’s praise, and she didn't seem overly bothered by the conversation. “Well, whatever his reason was, I’m glad he did.”

“Me, too,” Waverly said quietly. She instantly felt that in those two short words, she had said far, far too much. Nicole’s brown eyes went warm and shiny, almost liquid, as though they were reflecting her cappuccino.

“So… Have you at least had a nice birthday so far?” the officer asked after a moment of tingling silence.

“My birthday is always terrible,” Waverly answered without thinking. Nicole froze, mug raised halfway to her lips.

“Even this year?” she asked.

“Yep,” Waverly sighed, licking a stray bit of whipped cream from her finger. She could feel Nicole’s eyes trained on her.

“Ouch. Well, that’s disappointing. I thought this was kinda fun.” Nicole looked at her over the rim of her mug, one eyebrow raised. Realizing what she had just said, Waverly winced apologetically and shook her head.

“Well, yeah, okay, this part hasn’t been so bad,” she clarified, trying to soften her previous statement. To her surprise, Nicole huffed a laugh into her cappuccino.

“Hey, thanks!” the cop said sarcastically. She didn’t seem mad or upset, though, just teasing. “Real flattering. ‘Not so bad.’ Just what every girl wants to hear.”

Waverly groaned and covered her face with her hands, embarrassed. Here Nicole was doing her level best to salvage the day, and Waverly wasn’t even appreciating it.

“God, I’m sorry. I’m being such a jerk right now,” she apologized, peeking through her fingers. Nicole still wore a smile, although it was now a slightly exasperated one.

“No, it’s okay, I like honesty. Please, don’t lie on my account. Tell me how you really feel.”

“No, seriously, don’t listen to me. Please. I’m just whining. It’s nothing against you. You’re… sweet. It's everyone else.”

The exasperation evaporated from Nicole’s smile, turning it more genuine, and she narrowed her eyes in playful challenge.

“Are you sure? Because I can do better,” Nicole offered. Waverly smirked.

“Really? You mean, this isn’t your A-game?” she taunted. Nicole scoffed dramatically.

“Hardly.”

“What would be better, then?” Waverly asked, her own curiosity getting the best of her. Nicole gave her a suspicious, skeptical look.

“You really want me to answer that?”

“Sure. I mean, it’s not like I’ve gotten a better offer so far.”

Nicole laughed again, closing her eyes and tipping her head up. Waverly’s eyes tracked the motion without her permission.

“Wow, I’m really on a roll today. First ’not so bad.’ And now ‘no better offer yet.’ Just gets better and better.”

“Oh, shut up,” Waverly groaned, feeling like she was arguing with Wynonna. Still chuckling, Nicole leaned back in her chair, looking thoughtful.

“You’re the one who asked,” she pointed out. Waverly drained the last oversaturated dregs of her hot chocolate and wiped her lips self-consciously.

“So what’s your answer? Where would we go? In your hypothetical, very impressive A-game?” she prompted again. Nicole looked surprised that she had returned to the subject.

“That is an excellent question,” she admitted, her face twisting in thought. Waverly tilted her head at her.

“You don’t even know?” she asked.

“Well, my A-game is a truly sight to behold, but I also wouldn’t want to scare you away,” Nicole said breezily, although Waverly could tell that she meant it.

“Are you that terrifying?” she goaded. She knew she was pressing her luck, but if there was only one person in this town willing to celebrate her birthday with her, then why not let her?

“Jury’s still out,” Nicole replied with a careless shrug. Waverly shook her head.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Probably,” Nicole agreed.

“So let’s go then,” Waverly said, standing. Nicole arched her eyebrows at her, seeming to give her a few seconds to withdraw the request.

“You’re sure?” she asked.

“What have I got to lose?” Waverly pointed out, and Nicole laughed again. The cop rolled to her feet, still chuckling, and shrugged.

“Well, with an attitude like that, how can I say no?” She nodded towards the exit, and Waverly stood, following her. When they reached the door, Nicole held it open for Waverly to walk through.

“Thanks. That’s very chivalrous of you,” Waverly said, and Nicole mimed a bow. They stood on the sidewalk for a long moment, Nicole clearly deep in thought, contemplating their next move. “Look, don’t worry so much. I just want to do something… memorable. I want to celebrate surviving one more year in this crazy town. And I trust you,” Waverly said firmly. Nicole arched a dubious eyebrow at her. “I mean it, wherever you’d take me if you weren’t worried about scaring me off. Wherever you really want to go. Take me there.”

Nicole gave her a long, unreadable look, the seconds stretching out between them.

“That’s what you want?” Nicole asked, voice soft and serious. Waverly nodded resolutely.

“Yeah. Show me what you got,” she said, her voice a challenge. Nicole looked at her for another long moment, like she was weighing the outcomes of this decision.

“Alright. Let’s do this,” she said finally. Under her breath, Waverly could have sworn she heard her whisper, “I’m an idiot.”

“What?”

Nicole shook her head, recovering fast and leading them down the sidewalk.

“We need to stop by my place first. I want to pick some stuff up, and my A-game doesn’t include uniform khakis,” she stated with confidence. Waverly nodded, cheered by the anticipation of whatever was coming next.

“Fine. Lay on, MacDuff.”

* * *

They walked for several minutes, mostly in comfortable silence, until they reached a small, cozy-looking two-story building with blue siding and a freshly-painted white wrap-around porch.

“This is your house?” Waverly asked, surprised.

“Yep,” Nicole said, a hint of pride in her voice. “You should have seen it before I moved in. It was a mess. They had a sheet of plywood in front of the door because the porch was rotting through.” She must have caught Waverly’s dubious look as they stood on the spot, because she stomped her heavy boot on it in demonstration. It held solid without so much as a creak. “I replaced all the damaged boards and retreated and repainted it. It’s fine now, although I’m not sure how long this paint is supposed to…” Nicole seemed to sense that kicking off a conversation about the maintenance and repair of older houses was not the best plan, and trailed off accordingly. “Never mind…”

“I guess I always imagined you in an apartment for some reason,” Waverly admitted. Nicole shrugged amiably. She unlocked the door and the deadbolt before entering, nodding Waverly in ahead of her. The front room was a clean and inviting living space, and Waverly automatically began walking a slow circuit, looking at the pictures on the walls and the books on the shelf while Nicole knelt and transferred her guns into a small safe.

“I mean, before I moved here, I lived in a high-rise in the city, but it doesn’t make any sense to rent out here if I’m staying for the long haul.” She straightened and followed Waverly’s gaze to her bookshelf, but Waverly suddenly found herself distracted by what Nicole had said.

“You’re planning to stay?” she asked, trying to wrestle the vulnerability out of her voice through sheer force of will.

“Yeah, of course. I love it here. I like the town, I like the people, I like the work.” Nicole shrugged brightly. “I feel like this is where I’m supposed to be, you know?”

“You didn’t strike me as the type to let Fate boss them around.”

“Hey, if the worst Fate is going to do is land me a long career with the Purgatory PD, I could sure do worse.” Nicole shrugged. “Besides, I see it as more of a ‘bloom where you’re planted’ situation. And this strikes me as a nice enough place to set down roots.”

Waverly, not sure how to respond, continued circling the room, while Nicole excused herself to change clothes upstairs with a quick “Make yourself at home.” She spent a long, amusing minute counting all the different shades of blue in the room, but eventually, she found herself pausing in front of a grouping of photos on the wall. They were panoramic landscapes, all taken from great heights. Red rock canyons, icy crags, and fog-shrouded hills all stared back at her. She stared at them until the sound of footsteps on the stairs announced Nicole’s return.

“Did you take all these?” Waverly asked, gazing at them each in turn.

“Those? Yeah,” Nicole agreed. Waverly didn’t turn yet, still looking at the details of each photo. There were birds flying through the fog, and a speck of a thorn bush in the red soil.

“They’re amazing. You’ve been so many places. I’ve barely ever left Purgatory, let alone the Ghost River Triangle,” Waverly said with a self-deprecating laugh.

“I envy that a little, actually,” Nicole admitted, walking up to stand just behind her shoulder. Waverly scoffed her disbelief without turning around. “No, I mean it. My parents were always on the road when I was growing up, and we moved around a lot. I never really got a chance to settle anywhere. I’ve never had a hometown. This is the first time in my life I’ve actually planned to stay in one place for longer than a few years.” Nicole’s voice was heavy with both regret and hope. “Traveling is great, don’t get me wrong, but it’s gotta be nice to feel like there’s a place you can go back to afterwards— a real home. I always wanted that.”

Waverly finally turned to look at Nicole, and felt her mouth dry up. Before this exact moment, she had never _really_ appreciated the fact that she had never seen Nicole out of uniform. Now, the woman was standing before her in a loose lavender shirt under a well-worn black bomber jacket, with dark jeans and a thick brown belt. Just as noticeably, she had taken her hair out of its braid. Waves of red, highlighted gold in the light from the windows, cascaded over her shoulders, longer than Waverly would have expected, and the sight of her made her thoughts seize up temporarily. _Well, what do you expect from someone literally named ‘Officer Haught,’_ her brain supplied unhelpfully. Waverly blinked and cleared her throat to give herself time to catch up. Nicole had said something serious and personal, and it called for a response, not just a slack-jawed stare.

“Um… Yeah, it is. I just… I wish I could see more of the world, not just through books and computer screens, but really see it, with my own eyes.”

“You will someday,” Nicole told her with a confident smile, like there was no doubt in her mind.

“Yeah? What makes you so sure?”

“Well, you’re an Earp, which means you’re stubborn. And you’re you, which means you’re completely brilliant. I’m sure you can do anything you set your mind to.” Nicole ’s brown eyes shone with warmth. “I bet the whole town will declare a day of mourning when you leave, though. And they’ll erect a clock in the town square counting down the seconds till your return.”

Waverly flushed pink, her whole body tingling with pleasure at the flattery, and the earnest look in Nicole’s eyes as she said it, like she wasn’t just teasing, like she fully believed every word.

“For a super serious sheriff’s deputy, you’re kind of ridiculous.”

“I don’t think so. The whole town’s at least half in love with you. I’m surprised September eighth isn’t a local holiday, with a big parade down Main Street and fireworks in the park.”

Waverly felt a lump form in her throat at the thought, the unintentional reminder that if anything, the opposite was true.

“Yeah, you’d think…” Waverly cleared her throat and looked for an excuse to change the subject. “Wow, your hair is so long. I had no idea.”

Nicole gave her a look like she knew she was dodging the subject, but she went along with it without comment.

“Yeah, that’s why I have to braid it all the time. It’s in the dress code. It gets annoying, though. I’ve been thinking about cutting it.” She fingered the tips thoughtfully, trying to pull it straight where it was still curled from the braid.

“Really? But it’s so pretty,” Waverly said without thinking. Nicole flashed her a surprised but delighted smile, and she immediately blushed. “I mean, I’m sure it would also look nice shorter. It’s up to you. Obviously.”

Nicole chucked at her suddenly flustered state.

“Well, we’ll see. I haven’t made the final decision yet.” She tossed the red waves over one shoulder and walked towards a room that Waverly assumed was the kitchen. “Give me one second and then we can go.”

“Go where?” Waverly called, returning to her snooping around the living room. She paused to peer at a Buddha statue on the bookshelf, then let her eyes wander from one title to the next. Nicole returned, a backpack slung over one shoulder.

“Out east of town,” she said. Waverly raised her eyebrows at her.

“You mean the woods? You don’t think that’s a little dangerous?” she asked skeptically. Nicole held up her right hand in a three-fingered salute.

“On my honor, I promise not to axe murder you,” she said solemnly. Waverly rolled her eyes and shoved her arm back down.

“Ha ha. Hilarious. Seriously, though, the woods?”

“Hey, _nobody_ hates those woods more than me, trust me. But don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” Nicole gave her a cocksure smile, and Waverly nearly rolled her eyes again. “Besides, we’re not stopping _in_ the woods, just _near_ the woods. We’ll just be driving through. I promise.”

Waverly shrugged and followed her out to her car. Nicole set the backpack in the trunk, where it joined what looked several piles of coiled rope and a few other bags.

“So what do _you_ have against the woods?” Waverly asked, climbing into the passenger seat. Nicole grimaced a little as she started the car up and checked all her mirrors twice.

“That… is a long, strange story. Maybe for some other day. Today, we’re celebrating.” There was a seriousness in Nicole’s eyes that Waverly hadn’t seen very often. The same seriousness she had seen earlier, when the officer had mentioned her past. And so now, it piqued Waverly’s curiosity and made her wonder: What _was_ in Nicole’s past? Where had she lived before? What did her parents look like? Were they cops, too? Were they still alive? Did she have extended family? Or close friends? And what kind of people did she date?

Waverly stopped herself at that last question with a giant red stop sign. She shouldn’t be thinking about that. She was with Champ. And straight. Ish. Probably. Maybe. Mostly. Sort of.

Then again, she wasn’t entirely unaware of the fact that she had basically told Nicole to take her on a date today. And she wasn’t entirely unaware of the things her brain and heart and body did when Nicole looked at her with those sparkling eyes and that beaming smile. She tried not to think too hard about what that might mean. Not yet, anyway.

There was still plenty of time.


	3. Chapter Three

They drove east, out of town and through the woods. A few of the trees were already starting to turn for fall, the tips of their leaves brushed with yellow and red. Nicole had the windows down, and the heat of the day was being blown away by the cooler evening air. On the radio, guitars twanged and a woman sang that “_it’s only life, after all_.” She thought she heard Nicole humming along, but it was too faint to be sure.

Predictably, Nicole was a focused and cautious driver, eyes on a constant swivel in search of hazards, and Waverly felt perfectly safe even as they drove through the dense, creepy trees. Finally, as promised, they emerged from the depths of the forest into a small gravel lot beside a sizable clearing, where there appeared to be a poorly attended and poorly maintained park.

“I forgot this place was even here,” Waverly commented as they both exited the car.

“Yeah, it’s a nice enough space for it but most people don’t like coming out this far, especially this close to the woods. So they don’t bother maintaining it much anymore. But it has this giant hill.” Nicole nodded to the park’s only apparent feature, a steep hill covered in overgrown grass.

“That is pretty giant,” Waverly admitted, eyeing it with a little concern.

“A few weeks ago, I was looking around for a good lookout point facing west, but most of the land on this side slopes down towards the river, so I’d nearly given up hope when one of the park rangers mentioned this place.”

Nicole retrieved her backpack and led the way, forging a path through the shaggy grass.

“I probably would have worn different shoes if I’d known we would be climbing,” Waverly said, grateful that she was at least wearing tall socks under her skirt. Nicole looked back over her shoulder and gave an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, sorry about that. But to be fair, I didn’t know either until about half an hour ago.”

“It’s my fault, really. I told you to take me somewhere impressive. I didn’t add any caveats.”

Nicole shrugged, not seeming in the least put out.

“I’m not complaining.”

They trekked upwards, Nicole occasionally glancing back to make sure she wasn’t leaving Waverly behind.

They crested the top of the hill, which was a small, flat clearing with an ancient wooden picnic table standing off to the side like an afterthought. Waverly walked to the westernmost corner and gazed out towards the mountains. It wasn’t quite sunset yet, but the sky was starting to change colors in preparation for it, deepening periwinkle on one side, rose gold on the other.

“God, look at that. It’s like something off a postcard,” Waverly breathed, looking out.

“That’s kind of the idea.” Nicole’s voice was punctuated by a clicking noise, and Waverly glanced back to see Nicole holding a camera loosely in her hand, pointed casually in her direction.

“Hey, don’t!” she squealed in protest.

“Don’t what?” Nicole asked, the smile on her face betraying her otherwise innocent tone. The camera clicked again.

“That, you jerk!” Waverly turned the full strength of her glare at the other woman.

“Why?” It clicked again, but as Waverly took a threatening step towards her, Nicole laughed and dropped the camera, letting it dangle from its strap. “Okay, okay. Sorry. I can delete them if you want.”

“It’s okay, just cut it out.”

“Got it,” Nicole grinned victoriously, and Waverly almost changed her mind, but she got distracted again by the view.

“So now what?” she asked, watching the sky.

“Now we wait,” Nicole said simply.

“That’s your A-game? Taking a girl to climb a hill and wait?” Waverly teased.

“Wait and drink,” Nicole amended. She jostled her backpack deliberately, producing the distinctive sound of clinking bottles.

“Well, that’s a little better,” Waverly admitted. “What did you bring?”

Nicole unzipped the backpack and first pulled out a tightly rolled-up blanket, which she expertly unfurled on the ground. Then she pulled out two bottles.

“I have wine and whiskey. Which do you want?” She canted the bottles in Waverly’s direction, but the younger woman just shrugged.

“Either is fine.”

“Nooo,” Nicole groaned, dragging the sound out with an exasperated smile. “You have to choose. It’s your birthday. Drink what you want.”

Again, Waverly felt the same rush of surprise and pleasure that had struck her each time that day at Nicole’s mention of her birthday.

“Fine. Wine, then.”

Nicole nodded, satisfied.

“Coming up.” She rummaged in the bag and produced a pair of stemless wine glasses. “Ta-Da,” she chimed, and Waverly chuckled.

“Impressive that you didn’t break them in there,” she commented as Nicole poured. The redhead handed over the first glass and pressed a hand melodramatically against her chest.

“You say that like I have no practice smuggling alcohol into parks.”

“Right, forgive me for that oversight. Clearly this was the product of well-honed skill.”

“Now you’re getting it,” Nicole said, smiling charmingly. She finished filling her own glass and held it out in a toast. “Cheers. Happy birthday, Waverly.”

Waverly clinked her glass against Nicole’s and they both drank. Nicole sat down on the blanket, and after a minute Waverly joined her. It was a large blanket, clearly bought for this purpose, but she was hyper-aware of how close in proximity it brought them.

“This is actually good,” Waverly commented, fiddling nervously with her glass. Nicole gave her an amused smile.

“Well yeah, I’m not going to drink bottom-shelf crap, and even if I did, I wouldn’t offer it to you.”

“Lucky for me.” Waverly kept looking out towards the mountains, even as she felt the magnetic pull of the woman beside her. “So where were you when you took that picture? The one from my present?”

Nicole studied the mountains to the west, raising one arm to shield her eyes from the sun. The evening light was highlighting her hair with orange and gold, and Waverly had a hard time not staring.

“Right about… there.” She pointed at a spot near the top of a lone peak.

“Did you drive up there?”

“Yeah. Well, sort of. I drove to there-” She pointed to another spot near the first. “-and then climbed down to a better vantage point.”

“Wait, for real?” Waverly asked, surprised, turning back to face her.

“For real,” Nicole agreed with a small chuckle.

“Are you Spiderman?” Waverly asked, and Nicole laughed in earnest.

“I am a woman of many secrets,” she answered with a feigned air of mystery.

“You’re ridiculous,” Waverly mumbled.

“You keep saying that,” Nicole pointed out. Waverly shrugged.

“It bears repeating.”

“You asked me if I’m Spiderman, and _I’m_ the ridiculous one?” Nicole arched an eyebrow at her.

“I don’t make the rules,” Waverly said, a little petulantly, but Nicole seemed perfectly content with their banter.

The sun was starting to set in earnest now, pouring color over the mountains, swaths of orange and pink and red. They both watched it as though they were at some kind of drive-in movie, occasionally refilling their glasses.

“It’s gorgeous,” Waverly breathed at one point, as the colors reflected off a cloud, more vivid than before. Nicole hummed her agreement, then started to move. With apparent reluctance, she set her glass down in the grass and rolled smoothly to her feet. She grabbed up her camera and spent a minute taking pictures from different vantage points, including standing on top of the barely-standing picnic table while Waverly yelled at her to get down before it collapsed. She returned to the blanket after that short burst, settling back into place.

“That’s all you’re taking?” Waverly asked, surprised. Nicole nodded.

“They’ll be pretty, but I’ve learned that nothing compares to the real thing. So you don’t want to _just_ take pictures, or you’ll miss the best part.”

“Makes sense.” She held out her hand. “Can I look at them?”

Nicole hesitated for only a second before handing the camera over, pointing out the relevant buttons. Waverly worked backwards. They were beautiful pictures. Any one of them would be worthy of framing. Then she reached the one of herself and froze. In theory, it was just a photo of her glaring at Nicole, but in reality, she was caught off-guard by the look on her own face. Her glare was playful and indulgent, her hands on her hips making her look more cute than threatening, and her lips were twisted into an irrepressible smile. In the light of the near-setting sun, her whole face seemed to glow with joy, or maybe even affection, and her eyes were shining. She hadn’t realized that she had been looking at Nicole that way. She hadn’t realized she had ever looked at _anyone_ that way. She wondered if it was just as obvious to Nicole.

She handed the camera back without a word, deep in thought. Nicole looked momentarily worried, but Waverly saw her face and finally spoke.

“They’re beautiful. You have a good eye for them.”

The redhead seemed to relax a little, but there was still just a hint of uneasiness in her smile, like she was worried about how much Waverly had seen.

“Thanks, but it’s hard to take a bad picture of a sight like this.” She cleared her throat and sat up a little, propping herself up on one arm. “I can send them to you, if you want. If you’re willing to risk giving me your phone number.”

“Oh, I get it. This whole thing was just an excuse to ask me for my phone number,” Waverly said mock-accusingly. Nicole laughed, but Waverly thought she caught her ears turning pink.

“If it was, it would be _by far_ the most trouble I’ve ever gone to in order to get a girl’s number. You should be flattered.” They both giggled, but Nicole still looked a little unsure of how to react. “Seriously, though, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I can get prints made later and leave them on your desk. I know where it is, after all.”

Waverly felt both comforted and a little disappointed at Nicole’s uncertainty. Waverly nudged her arm in what she hoped was a reassuring way.

“I think I can probably take the risk. I mean, you did promise not to murder me already,” Waverly said, pretending to weigh her options. Looking pleased, Nicole passed over her phone and Waverly typed her number in. “It’ll be nice to have the pictures. To remember this.”

“Yeah…” Nicole agreed, her voice as soft as a sigh. She stretched out on the blanket, showing off her full length before settling back again, staring up at the just-visible stars in the darkening sky. Waverly just watched her for a moment, contemplating it all. A breeze blew over them, and she hugged herself, shivering as the last of the sun crept behind the mountains, leaving the air cooler than before.

“I’m not sure you brought enough blankets for this,” she chastised her companion, who glanced at her in surprise.

“Oh, I didn’t think it was that cold. Here, take this.” She sat up and shrugged off her jacket, holding it out. Waverly started to protest, but just at that moment, another gust of cold wind blew over them, sending Nicole’s hair whirling and making Waverly’s whole body stiffen with a sudden chill. Pulling the jacket on was an instant relief. It was still warm from Nicole’s body and was just a little too big for her. It smelled like leather and vanilla, which Waverly never would have guessed as a combination she would enjoy, but somehow it worked perfectly.

“Thanks. But won’t you be cold?” she checked, even though she had no intention of returning the jacket until they were safely back in the car with the heater running.

“Me? Nah.” Nicole scrunched up her face as though the thought was ridiculous. “It’s not that cold yet. Feels like at least fifty degrees.”

Waverly giggled abruptly.

“‘Fifty’ degrees? How old are you?” she said accusingly. Nicole looked confused for a second, then groaned.

“Sorry. Ten. Ten degrees,” she corrected, embarrassed. “Sorry. My family moved back and forth across the border a lot, so sometimes I still think in Fahrenheit.”

“Really? So how did you end up here?”

“Dual citizenship. My dad’s family is sort of from this area.” Nicole shrugged. “I came back as an adult, and then Nedley made this offer, so…”

“You have family here?” Waverly asked, surprised. “Did they move away, or would I know them?” She tried to think of anyone in Purgatory with Nicole’s height or red hair or fine features, but nobody distinct came to mind, and there were certainly no Haughts in the historical records. She would have remembered that.

“No, I don’t think they lived in town. And they died when I was six,” Nicole said matter-of-factly. Waverly blanched.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” she said quickly.

“It’s okay. I’ve had twenty years to get over it.” Nicole spoke lightly, but her face was vaguely wan, like the humor was forced.

“Still…” Waverly murmured, remembered having lost her own family at that age.

“Yeah, still…” Nicole agreed with a sigh. They were quiet for a moment, stargazing in silence. Nicole shifted a little, just an inch or two closer, and Waverly pretended not to notice.

“Are you still close to your family?” Waverly asked after a minute of curiosity gnawing at her. Nicole’s expression grew more distant, and one of her hands fidgeted on the blanket, running her thumb over the textured fabric.

“No, not at all. We haven’t even spoken in…” She paused, thinking. “I guess about five years now. Maybe a little less than that.”

“Why not?” Waverly asked before she really thought it through. “No, wait, sorry. That was way too personal. Please don’t answer.”

Nicole chuckled good-naturedly, thankfully not seeming offended.

“Don’t worry so much. If it were a secret, I wouldn’t have said anything.” She looked back up at the stars. “The short version is that my parents are idiots and I’m not, so we don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things, especially what they call my ‘life choices.’ It’s just easier for all of us if we just don’t talk to each other.”

That wasn’t quite the answer she had expected, but she supposed ‘idiots’ could cover a multitude of sins. Most importantly, she wondered if they disapproved of Nicole’s sexuality.

“It’s still sad,” she offered. Nicole’s face softened a little.

“Yeah, maybe.”

Nicole looked glum enough and vulnerable enough that Waverly instinctively decided to show her own matching scars.

“My dad died and my mom left when I was really young. You’ve probably heard that already from the town gossip,” she said, having no illusions about how most Purgatorians felt about the Earp family history.

“I try not to listen to that kind of thing,” Nicole said easily. Waverly gave her a skeptical look, and she grimaced guiltily. “But yes, I have possibly heard people mention something like that.”

“But the nicer part of that story is that my aunt and uncle took me in and raised me. They were like angels. My uncle just died a few months ago, and I still miss him like crazy. He was practically my father. Better than my father.”

“Curtis, right?” Nicole asked, and Waverly nodded, a lump in her throat. She felt a hand close over hers, just briefly. One warm, reassuring squeeze and a few small circles rubbed into the back of her hand, before it retreated back to her side of the blanket. “I only met him once, just in passing, when I first moved here. I liked him right away.”

Waverly gave a watery, skeptical laugh.

“Nobody liked him right away. He was weird. Even by Purgatory standards.” But he had loved her and supported her. He had understood her own weirdness and embraced her for it, the dead languages and niche history degrees. He had loved her. The memory made her heart ache.

“I did, I swear. I have good instincts for that kind of thing. I thought he seemed kind. He seemed like a good man.”

“He was.” This time, it was Waverly who shifted closer, partly for warmth but mostly for comfort, silently hoping that Nicole might take her hand again. The deputy was such a solid, stable presence. Like nothing could scare her off. Like nothing would make her leave. It was a dangerous hope.

“I’m surprised you were raised by idiots,” Waverly murmured. Their heads were so close together now that they didn’t need to speak at full volume. It felt terrifyingly and wonderfully intimate. That made it all the more jarring when Nicole laughed loudly, the sound echoing in the quiet darkness. Waverly nudged her shoulder reproachfully. “I just mean, I always imagined that your parents were cops, too. Or something like it. You just seemed cut from that mold, you know?”

“I wish,” Nicole sighed. “Or maybe not. They would be the worst cops ever. Worse even than Lonnie.” Her eyes were staring up at the stars and back in time, presumably recalling her childhood. “The one upside of them never being around is that I got to grow up with my own thoughts and opinions. If they’d actually paid attention, or remembered my birthday on a regular basis, I probably would never have become a cop. I could have ended up just like them, which trust me, would _not_ be an improvement. So really, their inattentiveness was for the greater good of the world.” She said it very simply and casually, and Waverly got the feeling this was something that she had put a lot of thought into over the years. But buried in the speech was one nugget of information that stuck fast in Waverly’s mind.

“They forgot your birthday?” she asked. Nicole glanced over, a little perplexed, and Waverly guessed that she had probably missed the crux of the story. Still, the redhead was game as ever to follow her lead.

“More than once. They kind of lived in their own little bubble, and I was not always a part of it, so they would lose track of important dates like that. Birthdays, graduations, championship games, whatever. Which was pretty upsetting at the time. It’s part of why I like to keep track of other people’s now.” She smirked a little, her expression softening. “So in a way, you really have them to thank for today.”

Waverly lay still for a long moment, fighting the lump in her throat, wanting to just say it, to explain why she was acting so weird today, why everything was such a big deal, why it meant so much that they were out here. She rallied her strength, trying to borrow some from the woman next to her, who always seemed to have enough to spare.

“People forget my birthday a lot. Everyone, really. They always have. I don’t know why. Even Wynonna. Even Gus and Curtis sometimes. Every year, people just forget. No matter what. It’s like a curse.” Waverly shook her head, trying to force back the embarrassing tears that threatened to fall. “And every year, I try not to care, but it never works. I just want them to remember.”

Nicole was quiet for a beat.

“And this year?” she asked gently. Waverly gave a shaky laugh.

“Just you,” she whispered, feeling laid open, like all her secrets and vulnerabilities and fears were on full display. But not necessarily in the worst way. She trusted Nicole. She knew she would never do anything to intentionally hurt her.

Nicole was quiet for another beat, then rolled onto her side, propping herself up on one arm so she could look down into her face. Waverly held her breath, for one fleeting second wondering if Nicole was actually going to kiss her. She looked like she might be considering it. Waverly wasn’t sure how she would react if she did.

“Well, I know it’s not the same… but I promise _I’ll_ remember every year. Even if we don’t get any closer than we are right now. I’ll make it a point to mark it on every new calendar and every year, if you don’t get a better offer, I’ll take you somewhere and we can celebrate. I know it’s not as good as your loved ones remembering, but hey, it’s something, right?” She raised her eyebrows endearingly, with that fond smile she always had, and Waverly realized with a pang that she actually believed her. She fully believed that Nicole Haught would remember her birthday every year, and would always have a smile and a present at the ready, to celebrate her life. And that one promise, that she 100% believed that Nicole would always keep no matter what, was the final straw for Waverly Earp.

In a rush of emotion, she surged forward, wrapping her arms around Nicole and burying her face in her shoulder. She felt Nicole instinctively catch her, her hands clasping her back, but she stayed frozen for a few seconds, apparently stunned by the reaction.

Waverly’s immediate thought, in spite of everything, was that Nicole had an _excellent_ shoulder for crying. Just aces, really. In a fitting nod to her name, her body exuded warmth like she had somehow soaked up a whole day’s worth of sunshine and was now radiating it back out. Waverly’s face was half buried in the soft purple fabric of her shirt and half nestled against the somehow even softer skin of her shoulder as tears practically poured out of her. After a moment’s hesitation, she felt Nicole’s hands slide up and down her back in long, soothing motions, and it was honestly the best thing she had felt in weeks. Waverly breathed in deep and verified that, yes, she had been correct about the donut thing, Nicole in fact smelled _exactly_ like vanilla-dipped donuts, which were by definition the best donuts, and Waverly would fight anyone who said otherwise. And underneath the sweet vanilla smell, there was the faintest musk of sweat and dust and grass.

The warmth and the touch and the scent seemed to wrap around Waverly like a blanket, insulating her from the hurt of the day until the tears slowed and stopped altogether. Even after the tears had stopped, she stayed curled against Nicole’s shoulder for another minute, with Nicole’s thumbs stroking the backs of her shoulders. It was so peaceful that she thought she could have happily stayed there all night, but finally, she couldn’t justify it any longer and had to pull away. Nicole immediately released her, looking concerned and compassionate and maybe just a little nervous. Waverly attempted a laugh that fell flat.

“I bet when you decided to give me that picture, this wasn’t what you were imagining would happen,” she said, wiping the tears from her face. Nicole reached back for her backpack and retrieved a packet of tissues, handing it to her. Waverly dried her eyes and blew her nose, while Nicole rested a warm, steady hand on her arm.

“No regrets,” the redhead said with a tender smile. Waverly moved her arm and, misunderstanding the motion, Nicole immediately pulled away, smile fading. But Waverly caught her hand before it could retreat, and wrapped her own fingers around it. It was warm, velvet-soft on one side and slightly calloused on the other, and the long fingers tightened on hers with such gentleness that she almost started crying again.

They lay like that for some time, facing each other, hands joined between them on the blanket. Minutes passed. Hours, maybe. Centuries. Who was keeping track?

It was full dark now, and Waverly knew she should be afraid to be this close to the woods, but she wasn’t. Nicole was there, and regardless of Wynonna’s opinion of the ‘rookie flatfoot,’ Waverly knew that Nicole would sooner die than let someone else get hurt on her watch.

As if to emphasize her thought, the moment was broken by a small noise in the dark. Nicole instantly dropped Waverly’s hand and sat up, rolling up into a crouch. She pulled a large metal flashlight out of her backpack and pointed it in the direction of the sound. Caught in the sudden light, a fox turned tail and bounded back towards the woods.

A false alarm. This time.

“You’re armed, right?” Waverly asked, frowning in that direction.

“Yeah, but only with my backup.” Nicole raised her pant leg and tugged down her sock to reveal a small handgun in an ankle holster. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Nicole gathered everything up and secured it in the backpack, then led the way back to the car. Waverly huddled under her borrowed coat, but Nicole seemed unaffected by the crisp night air.

They exchanged few words as they climbed back into the car, both reluctant to break the silent, tenuous intimacy that still hovered between them, like part of them was still lying, hands linked, on the blanket under the stars. There was a level of comfort and familiarity between them now that had never been there before, and Waverly dreaded the thought that tomorrow, things would probably go back to normal and they would be back to being no more than friendly acquaintances. And she would still be dating Champ. It seemed so ludicrous here in the dark, wrapped up in Nicole’s jacket, seeing her face lit by the soft glow of dashboard lights.

On the radio, barely audible over the hum of the engine, another guitar strummed, and a smooth, rich voice advised her to “_try not to try too hard, it’s just a lovely ride_.”

“I can drop you off at the homestead if you want,” Nicole offered as they approached the turnoff. “Unless you’re going back into town.”

Waverly considered her options. On the one hand, the drive into town was longer, and she really wanted this night to last as long as possible. On the other hand, she had ridden with Wynonna that morning, so if she went back to town, she’d have to stay in her room above Shorty’s, and there was every possibility that Champ would be there. She really didn’t want to see Champ tonight. Back on the first hand, maybe if they went back to town, Nicole would invite her back into her house for coffee or whiskey and they could stretch the night out by a few more precious minutes.

She peered over at Nicole’s face. She was focused again on her driving, calm and in control, but as her eyes flitted around in search of hazards, she must have caught Waverly staring, because she tilted her head towards her and gave her a quick, soft smile, her eyes shining.

Waverly’s heart lifted, and then immediately plummeted. What was she doing? She knew Nicole had feelings for her, and here she was emotionally waterboarding her with a night that basically amounted to a perfect first date and an unfulfillable promise. She was basically leading her on. She was still with Champ, and only had the haziest of plans to break up with him. And regardless of whether or not she was attracted to Nicole, the fact remained that she had never dated women.

Even if this was by far the best date of her life. Even if Nicole was essentially perfect. Even if nobody had ever looked at her the way Nicole did. Even if her smiles made her heart flutter like something out of a paperback novel. Even if it was so, _so_ tempting just to think about it…

They pulled up to the homestead. The lights were still on. It wasn’t that late yet, and Wynonna tended to keep odd hours anyway. Nicole got out of the car and retrieved Waverly’s present from the trunk, handing it to her. Waverly ran her hands over the frame again before taking it.

“You could come in if you want,” Waverly offered. Nicole gave her a wry smile. They were both re-entering reality as though waking up from a dream, the image of sunsets and stars still on the backs of their eyelids. But that dream gave way to the cold light of reality, where they lived very separate lives.

“Nah, I’d better take a rain check on that one. I mean, I’d like to, but I think I’ve taken up enough of your time tonight.”

“That’s okay. I liked it.” Waverly tried to communicate the truth of the statement with her eyes, but she couldn’t be sure if the message got through. Regardless, Nicole kept the soft smile on her face and the fond look in her eyes.

“So did we break the streak? Did this birthday qualify as ‘not terrible,’ or will I have to try harder next year?” she asked, gently teasing. Waverly laughed.

“It was _very_ not terrible. Your A-game really _is_ a sight to behold.” She beamed at Nicole, who looked gratified by the praise, cheeks dimpling in a smile. “Really. Thank you. For everything.”

“It was my pleasure. Honestly.” Nicole nodded to her and gripped her belt again, looking awkward. Her eyes slid towards the house, where the light was still glowing in the windows. “Look, I know it’s not my place, but… you should remind your friends and family about today. Or at least your sister. I’m sure she’d want to know. She wouldn’t want it to hurt you like this.”

Waverly was surprised by the unexpected advice, but Nicole’s earnestness once again made it hard to hold anything against her. She shrugged, oddly flustered.

“I know she doesn’t mean anything by it,” she said, not meeting Nicole’s eyes.

“Me too. Which is how I know that she’ll want to make up for it,” Nicole said, her voice quiet and serious. “You should let her.”

Waverly bit her lip, considering the idea.

“Maybe.”

Nicole seemed content enough with this answer, or at least didn’t seem to think it was her place to push, so she stepped back with a quick, satisfied nod.

“Well… goodnight, then, Waverly Earp. I’ll see you around.”

She stepped backwards again, towards her car. The brisk September wind tossed her hair, and she pushed it out of her face with a chuckle. Waverly shivered, and suddenly realized something.

“Wait, I still have your coat,” she pointed out, although she made no move to remove it.

“It’s alright. Give it to me next time you see me.” Nicole opened the driver’s side door and called a final, “And Happy Birthday, Waverly.”

Waverly walked to the door as Nicole started her car. It idled, rumbling, as she waited for Waverly to get safely inside. She gave a small, final wave from the doorway, feeling a sharp pang, and then Nicole was driving away, taillights disappearing into the night.

Waverly walked inside and was momentarily thrown by the normalcy of the action after the long, strange day. She set her new framed picture on the coffee table and collapsed backwards onto the couch, feeling exhausted but still somehow wired. She was interrupted by the deafening clatter of Wynonna descending the stairs, and then her sister was in the room.

After her lovely excursion with Nicole, Waverly expected to be more forgiving of Wynonna’s obliviousness, but instead it almost seemed to make it worse. That Nicole, who was more acquaintance than friend, would be more thoughtful of her than her own sister.

“Hey, there you are. Where have you been all day?” Wynonna asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes at her. Waverly felt a surge of annoyance sweep over her.

“Out,” she said simply, as flashes of the evening played in her head. Coffee and donuts, sunsets and stars, guitars and headlights. Nicole’s face, her eyes, her smile. The smell of her hair. The touch of her hand.

The fact that she remembered her birthday.

“Alright then.” Wynonna shrugged and let the subject drop. “Cool jacket. Not really your style, though.”

“I’m borrowing it.”

At her evasive tone, Wynonna seemed to take extra interest, studying the jacket intently.

“Man, Champ sure has shrunk since I last saw him.”

“It’s not Champ’s. I do know other people, you know,” Waverly snapped, vaguely irritated. Wynonna raised an eyebrow at her.

“I know. Jeez.” Wynonna held up her hands in mock-surrender. “I just assumed, since you’ve been acting pissed off all day, that his dumbass... ass was involved.”

“Well, he’s not.”

“Fine. Great. So… who?”

Waverly bit her lip, weighing her answer. On the one hand, there wasn’t really any harm in saying she’d been with Nicole. They knew each other. Nicole seemed interested in being her friend. It wouldn’t be that crazy. But on the other hand, she knew that Nicole wasn’t _really_ interested in being her friend, or at least not _just_ her friend. And she was barely ready to really think about that, let alone talk about it.

“Felix,” she said finally. “I was with Felix.”

“Right, package dude. Cool.” Wynonna’s voice was oddly flat, like she didn’t totally believe her, and she looked decidedly grumpy about it.

“Sorry, it’s just…” Waverly bit her lip, considering Nicole’s advice for a moment. “Do you even know what today is?” she asked finally, softly. Sensing the shift in tone, Wynonna hesitated, then sank into an armchair, leaning forward on her knees. Her annoyance gave way to a softer wariness.

“I’m guessing ‘Monday’ isn’t what you’re looking for.”

“No. And anyway today’s Thursday,” Waverly corrected.

“Good to know.”

“September eighth,” Waverly prompted. Wynonna nodded slowly.

“That kinda rings a bell…” she said vaguely, clearly combing her memories for the relevance. After a few seconds, Waverly got tired of waiting.

“Wynonna, it’s my birthday.”

“Oh.” Wynonna took a second to process this, then her eyes went wide and she buried her face in her hands. “Aw, shit. Not again.”

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly,” Waverly grumbled.

“God, I’m sorry, Waves. I swear, I was going to mark it down this year, but then I just… lost track of it. Again.”

“It’s okay. I mean, it’s not, but I’ve kinda gotten used to it. You know, over the many, many, _many_ years…”

“I swear, I’ll make it up to you this weekend. It’ll be you and me, baby girl. We’ll rent all those stupid movies you love and you can make me watch them until I want to blow my brains out with Peacemaker. I promise.”

Waverly chuckled a little, her bad mood lifting just a little. She pulled the jacket tighter around herself, the leather and vanilla smell invoking memories from earlier.

“Okay.”

Nicole had been right. This was better than nothing. Better than continuing to resent Wynonna for the rest of the day, anyway.

She and Wynonna stayed up late, watching TV and eating popcorn and trading one of Wynonna’s better bottles of whiskey back and forth. Wynonna apologized a dozen more times, and by the time Waverly dragged herself up to bed, she felt sure that this was the best birthday she had had in a very, very long time. She stretched out on her bed in the dark, under her blankets, and imagined herself once again on that hill, lying with Nicole under the moon and stars. Her hand tingled faintly from the memory.

A sudden noise from her phone caught her attention, and she picked it up, surprised, to find a text from Nicole on the screen.

_Happy Birthday, Waverly Earp._

The message was time-stamped 11:59pm. Waverly smiled, shaking her head, and set the phone back down, only to have it vibrate again with another incoming message, this one stamped for 12:00am, September 9th.

_Only 364 days left till your birthday. Get ready._


End file.
